Sunday, June 21, 2009

A LOVE LETTER IN THREE PARTS.

God knows this town feels cursed sometimes. Days when dark, heavy clouds are embedding Gothenburg from the southern factories to the grimy oil refineries in the western harbour, and when the love of your life leaves with a taxi you haven't ordered, you reach for the suitcase you keep packed and ready under the bed. But every time you try to leave, there's something holding you back, keeping you here. Like today, an absolutely wonderful June afternoon, 28 °C, slightly cooler in the shade, the setting sun drenching the city centre rooftops in a deep hue of pinks, yellows and purples. And strolling down the Vasa avenue, there's a sense of good times on the rise, a sense of a town that belongs to you and you alone. It's as if everyone's been listening to Bill Withers "Lovely Day" before leaving the house, feeling that same unbridled optimism. I do.

For us, geography and architecture are essential elements of pop. It may be slightly naïve, but I have to believe there's a way for pop music to prevent commercial takeover of public spaces, a way for pop to demolish shopping centres and make room for a city's inhabitants. The City, whether it's here or somewhere else, is yours. This small, simple project, named GBG Belongs to Us, is a selection of love letters to the places and the people who makes this town a lovely one to live in. To everyone who's heart skips a beat at the sight of an intersection, feeling dizzy at the amount of routes available, and to everyone who believe that a city is not just a home, it's a lifelong companion.